tell me a story, she said. what kind of story, he asked. a good one, the best one! she squealed. a good one eh? well let me see, ah well this one should do. she crawled into his lap as he smacked his gums and bounced his lips. she giggled and he patted her head. you see, he said, the story is everything. the story is all that is real. some folks try and steal the story, some folks try to kill the story, some pretend not to hear the story. but the story is everything and everywhere. can you write it down for me? she asked with a smile. of course! i'd be happy to my love. he pulled a white sheet of paper from the desk beside them. he looked at the blank paper, blinked back tears and handed her the stark white sheet.
she hugged his neck, kissed his cheek, took the paper carefully and slowly walked it to bed. carrying that paper as if she held a centuries old everything.
